Thus strangely are our souls constructed, and by slight ligaments are we bound to prosperity and ruin.

Even the eternal skies weep, I thought; is there any shame then, that mortal man should spend himself in tears?

What are we, the inhabitants of this globe, least among the many that people infinite space? Our minds embrace infinity; the visible mechanism of our being is subject to merest accident.

I leave a sad and bitter world; and if you remember me, and think of me as of one unjustly condemned, I am resigned to the fate awaiting me.

Life and death appeared to me ideal bounds, which I should first break through, and pour a torrent of light into our dark world.

I saw no cause for their unhappiness, but I was deeply affected by it. If such lovely creatures were miserable, it was less strange that I, an imperfect and solitary being, should be wretched.

What can stop the determined heart and resolved will of man?